


septender ficlets

by maharlika



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Autumn, Disordered Eating, Established Relationship, Figure Skating Loki, Fix-It, Fluff, Ice Skating, Lighthouse Keeper Thor, M/M, Post-Endgame, Secret Relationship, Selkie Loki, Sibling Incest, hockey player thor, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-10 11:38:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20527409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharlika/pseuds/maharlika
Summary: Short, sweet fics written for Septender.1. Loki and Thor's love is new and tender, born of the summer. Loki fears the oncoming winter will chase it away.2. There it was again: the sound of Thor’s lightning-bright laughter. A fluffy post-Endgame ficlet.3. Every autumn, Thor's lover comes ashore. A selkie AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Snuzz, @spacerenegades on Twitter, for the prompt "ice skating." She had other prompts too but I clearly only focused on the ice skating, whoops.
> 
> This is a mini-sequel to my figure skating Loki fic, [i would be a fool to carry on](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929437/chapters/34586295), but you can read it on its own.

They go home at the end of summer.

Three glorious days are spent at Loki’s apartment, full of slow, sun-drenched sex, Thor’s warmth driving away the chill.

And then Thor leaves, flies across the country for the start of the hockey season, and Loki is alone as the weather grows colder.

He skates, leaving behind the silk and softness of his body, overgrown from the sweetness of the summer. He hardens himself. Every night, Thor calls, asks him what he’s eating.

“Chicken,” Loki says, “and some pasta.” He wrestles open a package of kale, and leaves it on the counter.

He stretches himself thin, makes himself beautiful again. Extends the joints of his body with every jump and spin, further and further.

Everything elastic is bound to snap.

And when Loki does, he calls Thor.

“I’m so tired. I—need you here,” voice breaking over the phone, rocking back and forth in his empty porcelain bathtub. “I know it’s selfish. I know—I know I’m ruining your life—this is stupid. It’s stupid, I never should have—I’m so sorry. I’m so—I’m so fucking sorry.” He hangs up, buries his head in his hands, and weeps.

Thor shows up on his doorstep the next day.

“Hi, baby,” he says, holding a bouquet of sunflowers—Loki’s favorite, rare in the late fall.

“You…I can’t believe...”

“I’ll always come, Lo. Anytime you need me, I’ll be there. Thank you for calling.”

Loki sobs, and throws himself on his brother.

\--

Thor cleans out his fridge, humming under his breath, making no comment about the vegetables Loki has left to rot in the chiller. Only nods with satisfaction when he manages to pull out the chicken that’s been sitting in the freezer for months. They leave it on the counter to thaw.

They go for groceries together: shiny apples, crisp French beans, plump tomatoes, a punnet of wild strawberries, each as small as Loki’s thumbnail.

Thor cooks for him. Loki eats every bite.

\--

They skive off practice to go skating at the local open-air rink that night, when it’s late enough that people are sparse. The dim light makes them unfamiliar, unrecognizable to anyone except each other.

Loki can’t remember the last time he skated for fun. With Thor, everything is easier, even skating. Even breathing. Loki does a triple Axel, fumbles the landing, and finds the breath to laugh about it.

They skate hand-in-hand, heads ducked low so they can stay that way.

Thor asks him if he remembers the herons in Japan. Beautiful, angular things.

Asks him what it feels like, in that moment he’s in the air, in flight, suspended by nothing except physics.

“I don’t know,” Loki says, “I’ve never thought about it.”

(What does it feel like? It feels like weightlessness. It feels like kissing Thor, like nothing could go wrong.

Before he lands on the cold, hard ice, and every molecule shudders with his own weight crashing down on himself.

Loki makes himself so tired.)

\--

Thor knows he has to leave again, and soon.

These are the things he leaves behind:

\- A book on his side of the bed, page folded down to Loki’s favorite scene  
\- Ill-formed scarves, knitted by tired but earnest hands  
\- A tin of tea, hibiscus and pomegranate, bright, red things to remind Loki of the sun as the days grow shorter  
\- His heart, gently set upon Loki’s open palm on the day he has to go

Thor folds tendons, knuckles, skin over Loki’s hands, and seals them with the kiss he desperately wants to press onto Loki’s mouth.

“Keep that safe for me,” Thor says. “I’ll be coming back for it.”

“I’ll eat it if you don’t,” Loki says, serious.

“Oh no,” Thor laughs, “then you’ll never be rid of me.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Loki says, proud of how his voice does not shake.

“You will, baby,” Thor murmurs.

“You asked me what it felt like,” Loki says, before Thor goes. “Jumping—flying.”

“The landing always hurts,” Loki says. “But it’s worth it.” He takes Thor’s hands in his. Folds tendons, knuckles, skin over Thor’s hands, sealing his heart in.

“It’s always worth it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There it was again: the sound of Thor’s lightning-bright laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fluffy lil post-Endgame ficlet.

A week after the war, Steve heard a sound he hadn’t heard in a long while.

He slowed his stroll towards the kitchen and listened intently. 

There it was again: the sound of Thor’s lightning-bright laughter.

There were advantages to being a super-soldier, and one of them was Steve’s perfect control over his body. In this case, he used it to tread, near-silent, across the hall. 

There was the soft murmur of conversation, and then, once more, Thor laughed. 

Thor was quick to laughter and good natured in almost all situations, and the deep despair that had overcome him in the war against Thanos had steadily worn Steve down as well. It was good to hear him happy.

Steve had a feeling he knew why, and carefully peeked into the kitchen. 

“There’s a reason you were born a prince and not a cook, brother.” 

It had been a week, but hearing Loki’s voice still managed to set alarm bells off in Steve’s head. It was only the sight of Thor, relaxed and smiling, that kept his heart steady. 

The drip of batter from the ceiling also helped lighten the mood. 

“I’d like to see you try to do better,” Thor retorted, still grinning as he looked up at the mess. 

“You know I don’t share your penchant for embarrassment,” Loki said. 

“Oh, hush,” Thor said, brandishing a spatula at Loki. 

And then he leaned down and kissed him on the mouth, easy as anything. Steve watched, understanding blossoming in his mind, as Loki slid a hand around the back of Thor’s neck and kept him close. 

As he turned away, he heard Loki say something again, too low for him to hear it.

It didn’t matter what Loki said, only that Thor laughed again, rumbling and loud.

\--

(“He thinks we don’t know he’s there,” Loki murmured against Thor’s lips. This thing between them was so new, still, and Loki could not shake off the idea that perhaps Thor did not want his friends to know of it.

Thor laughed, and tucked his nose against Loki’s cheek in a soft nuzzle. “Let him see,” he said. “Let them know that I love you best.”)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every autumn, Thor’s lover comes ashore. 
> 
> A selkie AU.
> 
> Beautiful moodboard from my love [here](https://twitter.com/spreadtheashes/status/1164144082509271040).

Every autumn, Thor’s lover comes ashore. 

The winds grow colder, blowing away the last dredges of summer and stirring anticipation in Thor’s chest. He goes about his duties as usual, making sure to keep the light lit for the men who toil out at sea, but he spends most of his time out at shore, walking at the edge of the water.

Everyday, flocks of birds fly overhead, darkening the sky with their bodies and filling the air with the beating of their wings. Thor watches, and he waits. 

When Loki emerges one clear, bright afternoon, he takes Thor’s breath away. He always does. 

Thor is struck dumb as Loki rises up from the ocean, his skin gleaming, his heavy fur like a cloak upon his back, streaming water. 

Then Loki looks up. 

“Thor,” he says, smiling. He’s hoarse, his human throat unused to speaking. It’s the most beautiful sound Thor has ever heard.

Thor runs, sloshing through freezing water, until he is waist-deep and Loki is in his arms.

He laughs as Thor heaves him into his arms, sodden fur and all. His beautiful seal husband, come home to him at last. 

—

It always takes Loki a few days to get used to having legs. It works out for them, in any case: they’re hard-pressed to find reasons to leave the warmth of their bed. They make love often and vigorously, moving within and beside each other with an energy they have spent two seasons cultivating. There are no words for this, for the sheer relief of another half-year done, of the end of longing. Of being found. 

They sleep under Loki’s cloak. He’s never tried to hide it, and Thor has never tried to take it away. 

Loki doesn’t talk much. More as a seal than as a human, but even then, he prefers to sit and listen. Thor fills the spaces enough for both of them, telling Loki stories from the last few months. Loki’s green eyes follow his hands as he gestures, bright and attentive. Sometimes, he’ll pluck Thor’s hand mid-gesture, bring it to his mouth for a little bite, smiling mischievously. 

He is always so curious about Thor’s body, moreso than his own. Fingers are a particular wonder, but so is Thor’s flaxen hair, his arms, his chest. He sits on Thor’s lap as Thor weaves stories, laughs his hoarse little laugh against Thor’s neck, his lithe body shaking with mirth. At night, he holds Thor’s hands to his chest as they sleep. 

Where Loki does not talk, he sings instead, humming selkie songs as he climbs the long, winding stairway up the lighthouse. Sometimes, Thor hums with him, the songs half-familiar. But there are sounds his throat cannot make, trills and purrs that spill out of Loki when he’s pleased. When Thor has his mouth around Loki’s cock, cum like the salt of the sea upon his tongue. 

In the growing cold, they keep each other warm. 

—

Thor takes Loki into town to pick up supplies, oil and wood and food. The people look upon Loki with interest. They think he is Thor’s brother, come to visit from further inland, from the city, where people are strange and their speech is lilting, like a song from the sea. 

But the sounds of the town are too much, the ruckus and the noise of it sending Loki into a frightened tizzy, even as Thor herds him into his arms and sits him somewhere quiet.

“Let’s go home,” Loki whispers, holding Thor’s hands in his. 

Home is the sea, the rocks rounded and smooth from the waves, the lighthouse at the end of the long road. 

In the mornings, Loki reads, slow and steady, or he knits, warm clothes for him and Thor, though he doesn’t always get the shapes right. 

At night, Thor sits by the shore while Loki wades into the water, bringing him back shimmering silver fish in his seal mouth, butting his head up against Thor’s leg. 

On the coldest of days, they don’t leave their tower, spending the days playing checkers, reading poetry, baking pies. 

Fire fascinates Loki, and he can spend hours on his belly, head on crossed arms, watching the dance of the flames. At least he has learned, now, not to touch.

—

When the first of the birds alight upon the ocean, returning from their long voyage across the sea, Thor knows it is time.

He cannot keep Loki away from his people. He cannot follow him into the water, though he tries. He goes as deep as he can. Loki holds Thor’s face in his hands and kisses him. 

“Wait for me, beloved,” he says, and then he dives into the depths and disappears, and Thor is left in the cold, harsh sea, tears mingling with the salt water.

He heaves himself onto the land, and lights the tower, so Loki will know he is all right.

And every night after, he lights the beacon to guide men home, and waits for his lover to come home. 

—

The next time Loki washes ashore, he does not have his fur coat.

He comes out of the water, naked, as a man, and buries himself in Thor’s arms. 

“Your coat,” Thor says, confused.

Loki shakes his head. “I don’t need it.” He puts a hand on Thor’s chest and sighs, deep and satisfied. He makes a soft sound, deep in his throat, that Thor recognizes as pleasure.

“You will keep me warm.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are super appreciated :) Thanks for reading! Catch me on Twitter @sendaraven.
> 
> I'm taking prompts for this series, if you guys have anything in mind! Tender, gentle, soft prompts only ;)


End file.
